Complete Nothing (True Love #2)(79)

Instead I stared at Keegan. He looked so different to me. So different from when he’d smiled at me over the Dave & Buster’s table. So different from when he’d pulled me to him outside the gym or acted vulnerable at Goddess that day. He had this cocky, defiant look on his face I’d never seen before. The look of a player. A jerk. A user.

Lauren had been right from the beginning. And I had been so, so stupid.

I felt as if someone had just punched me square in the chest. This whole thing had started when I set out to use him. Apparently, when I wasn’t looking, he’d turned it around on me. He’d gotten what he wanted out of me on Tuesday afternoon, and now he was showing his true colors.

“Don’t worry,” I said, mustering my pride. “I have a life too. And it’s about time I get back to it.”

Hands shaking, I somehow yanked open the car door, got in behind the wheel, and put Keegan Traylor in my rearview mirror as fast as I possibly could.





CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE


Peter


I went to Claudia’s recital on Friday night. I didn’t have to—she wouldn’t know I was there unless someone told her—but I wanted to. I watched her and Lance execute their duet. Watched the crowd go wild. Gave them a standing ovation. And when the old lady in the next seat smiled up at me, my throat welled with pride.

“That’s my girlfriend,” I said.

Then I spent the rest of the night praying to God that tomorrow, I’d be able to make those words true.





CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX


Claudia


“I’m going to throw up,” I said to Lance, pacing in my three feet of space in the lobby of the Lafayette School of Dance. There were dancers everywhere. Tall ones, short ones, skinny ones, skinnier ones. They stretched out against walls, practiced pirouettes in the corners, compared résumés over coffee. There were too many dancers vying for too few spots. How could I have ever thought I was good enough?

“You’re not going to throw up,” Lance said firmly, holding onto my shoulders. “You’re probably just carsick from the drive. That with the nervousness is not a good combo. Why don’t you go to the bathroom? Take a minute. You’ll feel better once you’ve had time to breathe.”

“Okay. Yes. Good.” I said, looking around for a sign to the ladies’ room. Instead I was accosted by a series of pretty, perky faces topped by perfect buns and chignons. Lance pointed me in the right direction and gave the small of my back a shove. The door was right in front of me.

“I’ll be right here,” he said, rather loudly.

“Okay.”

I shoved the door open and slipped into one of the three white-walled stalls. The place spotlessly clean. Still, I tugged out one of the paper toilet seat covers, laid it on the seat, and then dropped down, putting my head between my hands.

“Focus,” I whispered. “You’ve done this routine ten million times before. You can do this. You can do it, you can do it, you can do it.”

I bit down on my tongue and looked up, wishing my parents and Casey and Lauren were here. Agreeing to carpool with Lance had felt like a good idea at the time, and when he’d picked me up that morning, I’d felt so independent. Like making it through this life-altering event on my own would prove that I was ready for the real world.

But now I just wanted my mommy.

Or Peter.

Dammit. Why had I thought of Peter? I’d been doing so well. I hadn’t thought of him once on the ride down here. Well, not in the last fifteen minutes of the ride. Okay, at least not since we’d parked the car.

But now that I was alone and thinking about him, I couldn’t stop. I remembered the plea in his eyes when he’d asked me to take him back. His confession about being so afraid of losing me. He’d been so heartfelt, so vulnerable, and I’d just flat-out rejected him. For Keegan. The biggest jerk ever to walk the earth.

What would he do if I called him and told him I’d take him up on his offer? Did he still want me, or had I ruined everything?

Someone pounded on the stall door.

“Are you ever coming out of there?” a nasal voice asked.

“Sorry.”

I jumped up and flushed, then yanked open the door. The girl waiting for the stall wore a black thin-strapped leotard and a leopard-print gauze skirt. She looked me up and down like I was trash. I averted my eyes, washed my hands, and checked my reflection.

“Well,” I whispered, “you can definitely beat out that girl.”

Then I smirked, rounded my shoulders, and vowed not to think about Peter Marrott for the rest of the day. Except that when I yanked open the door, he was standing right in front of me, holding a dozen red roses.

“Surprise!”

My hands fluttered up to cover my mouth. Behind Peter were True and Lauren, Mia and Wallace, Lance and Madame Helene, Gavin and his new girlfriend Tara. And behind them were my parents, alongside Casey and Corey. My friends and family. They were here. And they were holding embarrassing painted signs. Messages like GO CLAUDIA! and TWIRL TO VICTORY!

“What are you guys doing here?” I gasped, as my mom stepped forward to hug me.

“Peter called us,” she said, beaming over at him. “He said he was organizing a caravan to come down and cheer you on.”